In Their Defence, Your Worship.

   
   
   
Answering the cross examination questioning, in the appeal hearing.    
     
     
     
strolling way down    
Commissioner street    
in the centre of town    
during morning's peak time    
     
wearing bright green shorts    
looking a complete clown    
I don't play sports, it's mid winter    
(I should buy a gown)    
     
ladies with eyes    
men staring wide, smiling side to side    
I took offence, then nearly died;    
glancing down in the fuss    
     
my face went blush-red    
the heart skipped six beats    
I'd given up cool-street-cred;    
From the side of those shorts    
     
peeked my left ball-sack    
like a crinkly bald head    
with a pimple on it's back    
The newspaper had heard    
     
today's front page story    
with print and a picture    
my nut! in all it's glory    
and there I was running      
     
to the local public library.  
Your worship, forgive me    
if I seem kinda flustered  
I do feel a heel, on a cross-dressed fairy    
     
     
     
     
-x-